The Death Series, Books 1-3 (Dark Dystopian Paranormal Romance): Death Whispers, Death Speaks, and Death Inception

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  Jasper fiddled with the recycled paper that wrapped the sandwich, finally setting it down.

  Jeb sucked a bubbly sweet liquid confection through a straw then set the drink down and leaned forward. “Talk.”

  “For Principle's sake, I'm not a dog.” She swore under her breath.

  Jeb’s eyebrows popped. Jasper was not a huge user of foul language. He swore enough for them both.

  “Are you still sore about the cop?”

  A great splash made them tense.

  Jeb turned and saw a youngling diving along with his canine. The sleek black animal charged through the water chasing a bright-white disc. His gaze hung longingly on the sparkling drops the animal shook off his fur coat.

  Then he dragged his attention back to Jasper.

  She wrung her hands.

  “No,” she answered in a low voice.

  “What is it then?”

  They grew silent as some older younglings strolled by, the females chasing the males. When the Threes were distant specks of running color, Jasper answered, “I'm afraid.”

  Jeb sat up straight, looking for the threat.

  “No.” Jasper gave a short laugh. “Not this moment. I mean, I—this is my first mission. It's gone badly, I almost died a Three's death, without honor. I made you jump us to heal me, and only luck got us back to the right quadrant. Then that… man,” she said, keeping her eyes cast to the ground.

  “He was no man. Just because he has a dick doesn't make him a man. It just means he's male.”

  Jasper smiled at his words, and he leaned back against the tree trunk, crossing his legs at the ankle, hands laced behind his head, elbows out.

  The bark of the tree bit softly against his flesh.

  “What else troubles you?”

  Jasper's gaze found him. He gave her hooded eyes back.

  He knew the answer.

  Jeb maintained his posture with an effort. “It's because I don't want to partner you anymore.”

  She nodded. “I know I've messed up. That I am female…”

  “You did well for a first mission. There were a lot of unforeseen fucking little disasters in every corner.” He shrugged. “Sometimes, that's the way of it.”

  Jeb felt air pressure, and his hand tore away from the back of his head to catch something midair.

  It was a ball of some sort. Pigskin bound with white laces covered it, and it felt good in his palm.

  A youngling of perhaps thirteen cycles ran up. Though the youth of this sector were hard to judge, he was very tall for his age.

  Five feet seven, one hundred twenty-five pounds, cardiovascular system premium, IQ: one thirty…

  Sensitive.

  Fuck.

  Jeb saw Jasper tense in his peripheral vision. They had simultaneously assessed the youngling.

  “Mister, throw me the ball, will ya?”

  Jeb threw it, and the youngling male sucked it into his chest as if he’d done so a hundred times before. He turned away then slowed… and stopped.

  He turned around.

  Their eyes met. Jeb noticed how green the irises were. The rarest shade in this sector. His mind automatically supplied the percentage: three percent.

  It made him think of Jasper, whose eyes were the rarest color on Papilio.

  “What are you?” the youngling whispered.

  “We mean no harm,” Jeb answered, standing up and backing away.

  “You were saying?” Beth asked.

  Jeb supposed she was right.

  All they needed to completely screw the mission was Kennet and Calvin to show up and escort them back to Papilio like infants.

  No.

  “Things aren't going smoothly.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jasper replied quietly.

  “Yeah,” the youngling said. “I know what you are…”

  Jeb stepped forward, and the youngling retreated a step.

  “Let's go,” Jasper said, plucking at his sleeve.

  The youngling smirked.

  “You're one of those Dimensionals.”

  The Reflectives stilled.

  “What did you call us?” Jasper asked, and Jeb held her back from moving closer to him.

  In Jeb's experience, Sensitives weren’t to be trusted. But he wondered if they were being mislabeled for a kind of paranormal present in this sector. If they had a term that seemed to apply to people who could jump through the dimensions, that could mean there were Threes who possessed the ability of a Reflective. This is bad.

  Jeb understood that the Zondoraes had found an abandoned pathway, juiced it with this sector's newfound pulse technology, and used it for illicit travel. Jeb knew of no reports of natural talent in this sector.

  “Yʼknow, the dudes that go poof.” With his fingers, he mimicked wings that fluttered then exploded into nothing. It was a crude but accurate explanation.

  Though Jeb struggled with syntax, Jasper understood it well. That would be one thing he missed when she was no longer his partner. Language was a minefield for him, yet she never stepped on one booby trap.

  He would miss other things, as well, none of which he would allow himself to inspect too closely at present.

  One fucking disaster at a time.

  “Why?” Jeb asked.

  The youngling grinned. “I won't tell anybody about you two. Chillax.”

  “Relax,” Jasper translated.

  There was nothing vaguely relaxing about a youngling he couldn’t manipulate.

  Jeb's hands went to his hips. “What do you propose, youngling?”

  Jasper smacked her forehead.

  “Merrick… really?”

  The youngling smirked. “’Kay, I got you two. You're some kind of aliens that look like us, but are from somewhere else.”

  He pointed at Jeb. “You talk sick, dude!”

  Jeb stared at him blankly.

  “Your speech is unique.”

  “Thank you, Jasper,” Jeb said in a droll voice.

  She winked. “Welcome.”

  The boy's voice dropped. “Did you guys get separated from Command Central?”

  Command Central?

  “Jacky!” another youngling shouted from behind him.

  Great… just great.

  The youngling, Jacky, turned at the torso and threw the ball to the other young one. The throw was executed perfectly, a spinning roll of air and stealth.

  The ball met its target, and the other youngling ran off to join a larger group. Jeb wondered if the day could possibly degrade further.

  Jacky of the Quadrant of Kent talked to the other Threes. “It's okay!” Jacky waved at his friends. “They're not pervs!”

  Jeb blanched. He'd forgotten the pervasive caution of this sector. The population seemed to suffer from an abundance of males who craved younglings’ flesh.

  His anger must have seeped through because Jacky said, “Whoa, dude, ya need to relax. My friends were gonna come wipe the ground up with your ass if you were one of those losers that gets off on kids.”

  Jeb surveyed the loose knot of mid-cycle younglings.

  “I doubt it very much.”

  “Which part?” Jasper asked, amused.

  “The ʻwiping the assʼ part.”

  Jacky stared at the two of them and shrugged. “Whatever. I thought you two looked different.” His eyes slid to the left, and Jeb's body tingled.

  He’s lying.

  Jeb didn't need to use his innate abilities to determine that. They needed to retreat from their current position to a less-populated locale or find out more from this boy.

  His green eyes met Jeb's. “Can I trust you?” For the first time during the strange exchange, Jeb sensed uncertainty from the youngling.

  Jeb nodded. “I am—we do not hurt…”

  “Children,” Jasper finished.

  Jacky's face scrunched up. “I am not a child. I'm almost thirteen. Check it.” He stood to his full height and lifted his arm, bunching the small muscle at the biceps.

  Jeb smiled. Ye
s—he certainly acts his cycle age.

  “So? Do we have a deal?”

  “I wasn't aware we'd made one.”

  “What do ya want?” Jasper asked.

  The kid shifted his weight, flinging a mop of stringy chestnut hair out of his eyes. He seemed to be measuring something, looking thoughtful.

  “I have this girlfriend.”

  Beth raised an eyebrow.

  “Not that kind, geez—duh.”

  “A friend that's a girl,” he clarified.

  Jeb and Jasper stared blankly back at him.

  “You two”—he let his finger swing between them—“need to trench some humor. You're a couple of joy suckers.”

  Jasper blinked.

  Jeb found it interesting to note that even Jasper could be stumped. He folded his thick arms across his chest, keeping one eye on the group, which was gravitating closer.

  “What do you propose?” Jeb asked, curious, despite the ruined mission, their obliterated timeline, and witnesses galore. He needed to know why a Sensitive youngling would identify them then ask for something. Of course, Jeb had never made acquaintance with a Sensitive youngling.

  If they didn't jump by the next morning, Rachett would send Kennet on a retrieval mission, and Jeb would never live it down.

  It would be worse for Jasper.

  Jeb couldn't allow that outcome. It would lessen her chances of a partner of quality.

  “I need you to help my friend escape.”

  That got Jeb's full attention, and he could tell Jasper was just as entranced, her body as still as a statue.

  “Who is your friend?” Jasper asked.

  Jeb moved behind her because the group of boys were almost to them.

  “Back off, bros… this is some private shit,” Jacky said and winked at Jeb, who hid a smile despite the circumstance.

  The boy had moxie.

  “We got your back, Jack,” one said while another snorted in the background.

  Jacky raised a middle finger casually.

  “Blow me.”

  They dispersed, muttering their discontent.

  “Here's the thing…” Jacky said, leaning forward.

  Jeb and Jasper gave each other a look then moved into a loose huddle as Jacky began to speak. Jasper had to stop him a few times and translate some of the odd slang because that was basically all he spoke.

  Jeb understood they would not be jumping the next day.

  He also understood their mission of political and future manipulation had turned into something else entirely—a rescue.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “You guys, follow me.” Jacky turned and cocked his head.

  “You know, conspicuous-much… don't look so pedophile-ish, ’kay?” He wandered off, tossing what he’d explained like it was a football.

  Beth shook her head.

  A few other children flanked him as he walked, and Merrick lengthened his stride, catching up to the teen.

  “Back off. You're bouncing off my bubble, pal.”

  Merrick's jaw clenched. “Listen here, I thought this was a matter of great importance.”

  Jacky turned, and Beth stopped walking. “It is… but you gotta not have a rack attack, man.”

  Beth couldn’t contain her laughter. The great Jeb Merrick was getting his ass absolutely handed to him by a teen. Beth was thrilled for a memory to cherish.

  Merrick whirled, his light-gray eyes like a storm of darkening gray. She put up her hands defensively. “He has a point—you're so stiff.”

  “Yeah, bro, what she said.”

  “You said it would be you and you alone,” Merrick reiterated.

  “Listen,” Jacky said, eyeing him, “you kinda stand out. And any adult with half a brain”—he leaned forward and continued quietly—“and there aren't many with that much”—Jacky straightened—“is gonna think you're a creeper. So a group of us? No problem. I walk off with you and hottie over there…”

  “Hey!” Beth said, her laughter gone.

  Jacky rolled his eyes. “With Miss Hotness?” He gave Beth a knowing look, and she opened her mouth then closed it.

  Merrick shot her a glance that clearly said see my problem?

  She was beginning to see it quite clearly.

  “So that the perv alarms don't sound, my buds here will offer diffusion.”

  Beth remembered her assessment of the boy, who had an IQ of one hundred thirty. Beth knew from her study of the history of this sector that the boy was in the upper two percent of the Three population intellect.

  What that meant for them was they had a very bright, emotionally immature Three to deal with. Who was also a Sensitive.

  His eyebrows rose as he gave them an impatient glance. “Well, come on. Put some lead in it, guys.”

  They followed. There were not too many of the mixed gender Threes paying attention to a couple in a group of three. Maybe they could be older siblings.

  However, as point man, Merrick had an almost military bearing. And though Merrick’s coloring was unusual, it was still within Three norms—barely.

  Beth was aware Merrick stood out. His hard edge was difficult to erase, and it followed him to every sector. Beth had one, too, but no one searched for it in a female.

  She was having difficulty getting used to being inconspicuous in Sector Three when she was noticed for every breath she took in Papilio.

  The change was somewhat disconcerting.

  She walked behind the group and kept their back secure.

  *

  Beth and Merrick lay on their stomachs. Merrick thumbed his pulse viewers off.

  “Let me see those. They're righteous,” Jacky said.

  Beth could see that Merrick would not be ready for offspring any time soon. She’d thought their drills back home were strenuous, but an hour in the company of Jacky Caldera felt like a full workout.

  “These are not for…” Jeb looked at Beth. “Teens.”

  “Listen, you're a bad-ass dude, but you're about as useful as balls on a priest. Just sayinʼ.”

  “Am I?” Merrick asked. He grabbed Jacky by the arms and jerked him to within an inch of his face.

  “I have traipsed for over an hour to a female's house whom you say is in imminent peril, yet we sit with the proverbial thumb up our collective asses while you wish for a show-and-tell.”

  “Okay!” Jacky squeaked. “Gawd!”

  Merrick dumped the boy, and Beth laughed.

  “You haven't lost your charm, Merrick. No matter where we travel, it follows you.”

  “Quiet,” Jeb said, suddenly serious.

  They hunkered down, their attention directed at the domicile’s front entrance.

  The door burst open, and a slip of a female ran out, a large Three male nearly on top of her.

  “That's her. That's Madeline.”

  “You sure she is a Dimensional?” Merrick asked, stumbling over the last word.

  “Yeah, bro—she hops around and comes back telling us all this crazy shit.”

  “Silence,” Merrick clipped.

  Beth knew he wanted to listen to the argument in front of the house as she did. It was escalating.

  Merrick stood, but didn't seem to realize he'd done so, and he appeared almost surprised to find himself on his feet.

  The Three's hand wrapped the female's windshield wiper of an arm.

  “Do something!” Jacky said.

  Merrick didn't move.

  “Jasper.”

  “Got it.”

  Beth walked out from behind the narrow hedge that bordered the houses, which were like rotten teeth of varying colors. The rows of depressing domiciles hadn't been touched in years. The patch of grass that the girl stood on wept with weeds that spiraled up around her thin legs.

  The male shook her, and a pulse began to pound in Beth's temple. Subdue, subdue, subdue.

  Seventh: no death is without consequence.

  She could barely remember the directive in the face of the domestic brutality she was witne
ssing.

  “What's going on here!” Beth yelled, startling the pair.

  Madeline didn't look as relieved as she should have, only as though she’d been granted a short respite from the violence.

  The man looked Beth up and down, clearly deciding he had the upper hand.

  He could not have been more wrong.

  “Looks like I got myself a little discipline with this bitch of a daughter, little lady.”

  Beth loathed monikers that mocked size.

  The beauty of the girl's voice, low and melodic, startled Beth.

  “I am not your daughter,” she seethed in an even tone.

  Beth liked her.

  “Close enough.” He shook her. “Who pays the bills in this house?” the horrible male ground out.

  More shaking, hair whipping back and forth.

  Beth stepped closer, and his eyes flicked to her position.

  “You want a piece of this, girlie? ’Cause none of what's going down here is your beeswax. You feel me?”

  Beth did.

  “I do… feel you,” she said slowly.

  The brand of his fingers remained on Madeline's arm after he released her, turning his attention to Beth.

  “You got something you think I need?” He grabbed his crotch.

  What is the obsession males of this sector have with their penises? Whatever it was, it was unhealthy.

  She decided it was unwarranted, as well.

  “Find out, vile scum.”

  His smile grew, filling out a face that might have been handsome at some point in the past but was tired and hard because of his life's decisions.

  “Lady,” Madeline whispered, “just go.”

  The man whipped around to her.

  “You shut your fucking mouth, Maddie, or I'll close it for you. Me and her are gonna have a nice little chat about puttinʼ our nose where it doesn't belong.”

  Beth and Madeline looked at each other.

  “I can take you from this,” Beth offered as if the horrible man didn't exist.

  Madeline's brows pulled together, and Beth was heartbroken to see the girl's fragile beauty spoiled by her environment. A gem sat among imposters, her subtle fire outshining those who wished to stifle it.

  No wonder the spitfire Jacky had wanted to defend her. The boy had worth, even though he was so young.

  “No, just go… he'll hurt you,” she warned Beth, to her own peril.